


her breath was fire

by hontueri



Category: Purple Hyacinth - Ephemerys & Sophism (Webcomic)
Genre: #acknowledgekieranisabottom2021, But spicy, F/M, Hardcore simp Kieran, I don’t say their names a single time, Spice, but we all know who it is, idk - Freeform, not explicit, wrote this instead of an essay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:48:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28825479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hontueri/pseuds/hontueri
Summary: I have absolutely no excuse. It’s just 800 words of Kieran simping. But it’s tasteful spice, because y’all will never catch me writing about Cylinders.
Relationships: Lauren Sinclair & Kieran White, Lauren Sinclair/Kieran White
Comments: 3
Kudos: 56





	her breath was fire

Her breath was fire.

Expansive, all-consuming, an emanation of passion and destruction, an indication of her beautiful yet aggressive nature from the inside out. Her lips branded his skin, leaving him aching. The facsimile of her tongue bruised into him was the only evidence she left behind, but he could feel it burning from underneath, his blood boiling everywhere she touched him.

She ran her hands along the front of his neck, down his chest, then over his abdomen. He could feel every inch of himself flush with the heat.

He’d always heard it described as electricity, always thought he was supposed to feel sharp sparks coursing through his veins. Instead the sting was slow. Torturous. Sweet. It forced him to arch against her, the sound of his savory discomfort drowned out by his soft pleas for more. Her fingers reached for his, intertwining them above his head, the pressure a message to keep them there.

Her weight kept him buried deep in sheets and pillows, the cool fabric a striking contrast to the woman above him. He closed his eyes and swallowed, letting out a sigh when she leaned down to whisper a teasing remark in his ear. He lost the ability to form coherent retorts the moment she got like this, ascendent and irresistible without even trying.

In the past, when this moment lived only in his imagination, he wasn’t quite so docile. It surprised him immensely, how easy it was to submit to her. He supposed it was fitting, in a somewhat amusing way. As a wanted criminal, he would have to concede to the law eventually, and as a police officer, she was the closest to that he would get for the time being. Though, he wouldn’t exactly consider this punishment.

For the most part, relinquishing control felt terrifying and unacceptable. But with her, it was a new kind of uncertainty. One that filled him with ease and excitement rather than dread and anxiety. Perhaps it was the effect of _ Lune _ , carefully nurtured trust that thrived the most under moonlight, which now shone soothingly through the window and washed over them.

He suspected that she liked the way she had him underneath her thumb, the way she could incite any response she wished so long as they stayed like this. She planned to take full advantage, if the impish look in her eyes was anything to go by.

Her perfume drugged him more and more with each new whiff, a fragrance like sugar wine and an effect like rum. Her burgundy hair was soft and cool against his scarlet-seared neck, and it slithered along his collarbone as she began to move farther down. She pressed a trail of new kisses all the way past his belly button, hands sliding down his side as she went, and he could practically feel the acid in his stomach splash along his insides. If there was ever an appealing way to die, he would gladly go like this, in an outbreak of chemical reactions that only she could provoke. If there was ever a choice, he would choose to remain here forever, to fall asleep with the flames of her lust licking him to ash.

With a decisive reach for him, he was left at her hands’ mercy, then her mouth’s. He could hear himself begging. Whining. Simmering. With each new bout of shivers came disjointed prayers shouted at her ministrations. At some point, she seemed to have had enough, finally satisfied with the level of helplessness she had rendered him.

The man was truly a mess. Loose dark strands lay tangled on the pillows, sprawled around (rather ironically) in a halo, from all the times he’d thrown his head back. His knuckles had gone white, hands gripping the bedpost so tightly she feared it would snap.

Her smile once again entered his vision as she crawled up, placing her hands at either side of his head. Crisp gold met hazy cerulean before she closed her eyes to brush a kiss at his cheek, at his temple, at his eyelids, then his jaw.

His fingers found themselves at her back, arms wrapping around her tightly and squeezing her down against his chest, not being able to take any more distance, her elbows crashing down to land where her palms lay before. For a brief moment he thought she would scold him, but he relished in the laugh she breathed out and in the closeness of scorching skin, her furnace melting away more fragments of his icy temperament.

She had placed her lips everywhere but where he needed them most, and only now did she finally grant him his gift, the pressure of her mouth against his a much anticipated consolation. The warmth spread even farther now, scalding honey slipping down his throat as he reached his peak of insobriety.

He could die like this.

Her breath, fire. Her kiss, poison.


End file.
